The five month anniversary of North’s dying came and went with a mention and fond remembering. We all experience a varying perception of elapsed time depending on what it was, when it is. This definitely felt more than the words five months evoked. After all, summer had arrived and left, fall was in its winding down glory. Early June leaves were just emerging at 8400ft. Now they had been gone for weeks. Two seasons, five full moon cycles. They each sound longer than the months.
Each night, as we go to bed, Zoey sits at the top of the stairs peering through the railing down into the dark abyss. We have arisen an hour later and she stands steady, gazing. Eventually, she leaves what ever watch she is sentry for and jumps to the bed to settle in. We only know she never did this 3 seasons or 4 seasons ago. I ask her if she sees or waits for North’s spirit or if she feels charged with protecting; she doesn’t say. It’s her secret to keep.
As a disclaimer, we aren’t in such mourning, that you need to feel, “Oh poor dogless, souls.” We are merely adjusting, observing the differences. North must be having so much fun running with a new pack, in an endless snowfield; there’s been no time to check in………..yet. Zoey will let us know.